


Cape

by terryreviews



Series: Vincturi Drabbles [3]
Category: Fright Night (2011), Twilight (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Quarantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:22:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23401417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terryreviews/pseuds/terryreviews
Summary: Aro has had a trying day and is gearing up to rant to Peter about it when he enters their room, only to find Peter in his best robe.
Relationships: Aro (Twilight)/Peter Vincent
Series: Vincturi Drabbles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675858
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Cape

**Author's Note:**

> I am currently bouncing between typing things very slowly on my cellphone or being able to borrow my brother's laptop so I have no access to my Grammarly to help me with errors. My phone autocorrects stuff and my brother's laptop only has basic spell check. So if there are errors, that's why.

One thing about vampires, they weren’t affected by hot or cold. They could feel the differences but none of it bothered them one way or another.

Aro had told him the cool, dry, air of the underground corridors was perfect for the preservation of his vast collections of art and texts.

For Peter, this meant Volterra was cold as fuck.

“Come on,” he grumbled as he pushed into Aro’s massive walk-in closet, “got to have a robe, a snuggie, something.”

At the front of the closet was Aro’s regular wear. Black suits with matching button-ups, socks, and polished leather shoes. Peter could pluck one off a hanger and wrap himself up in the jacket, but no. He wanted something of substance not just style. 

Passing further into the depths, Peter paused every once in a while to pull something to the side so he could admire it. All of these things looked like they came off the rack. In 1950 or earlier.

He was in the back of the closet now, surrounded by vintage furs and ankle length coats in thick wool of various shades of gray. Spoiled for choice.

He was about to select one when something caught his eye.

\--

It was not always doling out executions or recruitment of new members for the guard. More often than not it was the settling of petty squabbles or the desire for a request to be granted interspersed with long periods of nothing. Which is why many of the less formal meetings were moved to the secondary throne room downstairs. Keep Aro and the others nearer to their personal entertainments and comforts to occupy them when there was nothing to be decided. The main room was used more for mass feedings now. Or high social events.

Today was a petty dispute. Two clans debating over a land claim. Neither could could prove the truth of their claims no matter how hard they believed them to be as such. With no evidence as the jumbled emotions and mixed thoughts in their minds, the choice had to be made that left neither satisfied but maintained the peace. It felt like putting toddlers in time out, shoving them in a corner and telling them to behave as they were told to form new territories on opposite sides of the country. Ridiculous and tedious. He could not wait to retire to his chambers. Hopefully he would find Peter in a _comforting_ mood.

Peter’s mouth watering scent greeted him as he rounded the corner and slowed his pace, allowing himself a moment to savor the hint of Peter’s flavor. He would never drink from Peter of course but there was a lingering, predatory inclination that enjoyed the tease of it. The barely there taste ghosting over his tongue. Truth be told, it had been centuries since he’d not only had to restrain himself but the reason behind that restraint was as pleasant as it was frustration. He was in love. Both the tease and infatuation combined and made for a nice change of pace to his otherwise mundane, repeating, existence. 

He believed, from some of the music Peter would play, there was a song apt for his situation. “Hurt So Good.” Perhaps he would mention it to Peter. It seemed the sort of thing that would amuse him, make him grow fond.

One more sniff and he opened the door to his room to find something unexpected.

“Comfortable?” He asked with as mile as he closed the door behind him.

Peter snuggled tighter into the fur lined cape, his hands peeking out from an opening in the flaps to hold his book, which he then let fall to his lap. Long enough to hug his ankles. Aro found it more than charming that it was so large around Peter’s lanky frame that it appeared he could tuck each flap under his body as they were over lapped.

“It’s alright,” Peter said non-committed, suppressing a smirk up until Aro made his way to him. Then he was grinning like a mischievous boy.

“Alright?” Aro scoffed, “that cape is an antique. Handcrafted, line with the fine fur of a wolf killed by a fellow vampire that dispatched the beast when it attacked a mortal village he was fond of.” Aro ran a hand over Peter’s chest, through the plush material. As clean and pristine as the day it was tailored.

Peter shrugged, “it’s warm,” he made his voice unimpressed, aloof.

“I’m sure it is,” Aro made a show of roving his eyes over Peter bundled in his most luxurious cape. “is that what prompted you to steal my clothing?”

“I lived in the desert okay. Light hoodies and jeans were enough even in my A/C. Spent half the time in my underwear. Besides, don’t get grumpy, if you could fit into my clothes you would,” he grinned at Aro’s affronted noise.

“I most certainly would not. Tacky and too modern. Besides, I could never pull off leather pants like you my dear.” he waved his hand over Peter’s form, “you in my clothes however,” he ran his hand over Peter’s chest once more. “I shall have to get you a new wardrobe. One similiar to mine.”

“So I can look like a mini-you?” Peter took Aro’s hand and kissed it, “no thanks.”

“So that you may be warm and fashionable.” Aro perched on the arm of the chair and ran his free hand through Peter’s hair, lightly scraping over the scalp in the way he knew he liked.

“If you turned up the heat I wouldn’t need a new wardrobe,” Peter countered, leaning into the hand.

“But the prospect of dressing you is too good to pass up my dearest.”

Peter hummed, thinking, before holding up one finger, “one outfit.”

“And your own cape?”

“Yours is so nice though,” Peter tilted his face up when Aro leaned down to kiss him.

“I admit, there is something about you in my clothes...” he stood up, rounded the chair and put his hands on both arms of the chair, bending forward to kiss Peter soundly.

“Come darling,” he held out his hands, “I need to take your measurements.” Peter let himself be pulled out of the chair, shivering when the cape that he didn’t tie off, fell back to the seat, and let himself be led to the bed.

Peter raised his eyebrow, “you’re going to take my measurements, for a new outfit, in bed? You don’t even have a tape measure.”

Aro brought his lips close to Peter’s ear, “I don’t need one for what I am measuring,” he cupped Peter’s ass, pressed him against his front, “hm, though, what I intend to measure seems to be growing,” he kissed his neck.

Peter growled, “get in bed.

Needless to say, the annoyances of the day’s affairs washed away with a little good pain and the prospect of playing dress up with his lover.


End file.
